


Zombies, Make! Valentine's Day Prompts

by bos10blonde



Category: Zombies Run!
Genre: 5am AND 5imon??, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, I meant not both at once, Mention of blood spatter, Non-Mute Runner Five, Season 3 and 4 Spoilers, She/her pronouns for Five, alcohol mention, mentions of panic, this time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-15 12:27:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29436048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bos10blonde/pseuds/bos10blonde
Summary: Part of the Zombies, Make! Valentine's Day creative challenge, hosted by Puptart on Tumblr and Discord. Thank you!!These were written in 1.5 hours and not edited as a result. Enjoy mercifully!
Relationships: Sam Yao/Runner Five, Simon Lauclan/Runner Five
Comments: 14
Kudos: 11





	1. Dance Me to the End

**Author's Note:**

> Round 1 Prompt 3: Dance Me to the End of Love by the Civil Wars. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AmbVqO9GCY0
> 
> Spoilers for Season 3 and midway through Season 4. Set in the middle of Season 4, but no spoilers for specific missions.
> 
> It's 100% 5am, set in mid-S4. Five and Sam are together at this point/in this fic. This Five uses she/her pronouns and speaks.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> S3/4 spoilers:
> 
> Runner Five is still hearing Moonchild in her head, even when she's trying to focus on a fragile bit of happiness. Sam, ever her anchor, finds a way to bring her through it.

Five stuck the tip of her tongue out of the corner of her mouth as she focused on putting the finishing touches on the large sheet cake she was icing. With an improvised pipette made from a Ziploc bag and a pen cap, Five had been doing her best to create the suggestions of spiraling pink vines and flowers with heart-shaped petals across the white frosting. And while it was certainly apparent at which corner she had begun, she was starting to be proud of the way it looked, even as she tried to hurry. She’d promised to meet Sam after she finished her turn in the kitchens for the day, and her eagerness to see him was fighting a spirited battle against her perfectionism.

With a final drag of frosting, Five finished the last coil and set aside the bag, evaluating her work. The cake covered half the table, and was the kitchens’ small way of celebrating Valentine’s Day in this post-apocalyptic world. They’d be serving it with dinner tomorrow, on the day, but the icing needed to set before it could be cut, so it had been prepared the day before. Five smiled and nodded once at the completed cake. It wasn’t perfect, but it was festive. Cute, even. She wished there were enough resources for individual pastries, or even just cupcakes. She’d love to be able to decorate one specifically for—

 _“Ah, now that looks just_ wonderful _, Runner Five.”_

 __The familiar dreamy voice cut Five’s thoughts, firmly in her head but as clear as if the speaker had been standing at Five’s shoulder. Five stiffened as if she’d been punched in the gut, gripping the edge of the table in front of her tightly enough her knuckles turned white.

Moonchild.

And of course, she was still talking.

_“What a fitting tribute to Mother Gaia for such a lovely festival. I’m sure you remember this is all based on the feast of Lupercalia, don’t you, Five? We had such a lovely conversation about pagan rituals when we were—”_

_“_ SHUT UP!!!” Five yelled suddenly, flinging the icing bag down into the sink as hard as she could. Its quiet plop on the metal was so unsatisfying Five unconsciously cast about for something else to throw or break or kick – just _anything_ to shut up the voice—

 _“Ah, don’t be rude, Five! We’re such good friends, you and I.”_ Moonchild crooned. Suppressing a scream of frustration, Five turned and fled from the kitchen, pressing the heels of her hands to her temples as if she could squeeze away the auditory hallucination.

“Just stop it!! Go away, _leave me alone_!!” Five chanted under her breath, trying desperately not to listen. In her agitation she nearly ran straight into the man who had been walking towards the cafeteria—an impressive feat, given the bright orange hoodie he was wearing.

“Five?” Sam asked, immediately alarmed at the expression on Five’s face.

“Sam!” Five cried, stumbling forward to hug him, burying her face into his chest. Sam draped a protective arm across her back, instinctively looking around for whatever might be distressing his runner.

“What’s wrong?” he asked with concern. “Is someone hurt? What’s going on?”

He felt Five shake her head against him, felt her shoulders rise and fall as she took a steadying breath. She released him and took a step back, eyebrows still drawn together in deep frustration.

“No, everything’s fine, I’m sorry. I just—I heard her again, Sam,” Five replied. “Moonchild. In my head. I can’t even decorate a damn _cake_ without hearing her, Sam!” Five’s voice was getting higher, the words tumbling out faster and faster, her fists clenched at her sides. “I can’t even live my _life_ without having to constantly drown out some psycho—”

“Five, Five, it’s okay,” Sam soothed, settling his hands on Five’s small shoulders as if to physically ground her. “Hey, look at me, yeah? Just listen to me instead.”

Five stared up at Sam, searching the kind face, seeing both concern and confidence in his warm brown eyes. She nodded slowly, willing her brow to unfurl and her heart rate to go down.

“ _Oh you think you can just ignore me, Five?”_ Moonchild’s voice was mocking, cruel in its feigned casualness. Five screwed her eyes shut again, and she could feel Sam squeeze her shoulders gently. After a moment, she felt him turn her slightly and she opened her eyes again.

“Come on, Five,” Sam said. “I’ve got an idea how we can drown the hippie out.” He started to lead Five towards the quad near the comms shack where people tended to gather in the evenings. “On the way, why don’t you tell me about your day? I mean, you’ve still got some frosting on your arm, there, so I can guess which rotation you’ve been on…”

Five pushed away from the continued muttering in her head, imagining the words bouncing away without even being understood in favor of answering Sam’s question. As she finished, and Sam started recapping the day’s missions in that immensely reassuring voice she loved so much, Moonchild’s voice did sound quieter, more distant. But was still there—Moonchild didn’t half go on.

Sam kept the conversation going as he and Five walked together towards the distant sounds of chatter, crackling flames, and soft guitar strings. Sam sighed with secret relief; he’d been banking on the fact that on most chilly nights like this one of the several musically-inclined residents of Abel would strum along by the bonfire. It was one of the things he loved the most about this township – no matter what was going on outside the walls, little flames of life persisted.

And everything was going his way, because as they entered the common area, he spotted a few scattered couples dancing gently together in the falling twilight to a slow acoustic ballad. Five had made a companionable space between them as they walked, so Sam reached out again for her hand.

“May I have this dance?” he asked, giving Five his cheesiest grin. She looked up in surprise, and the cheerful gleam in his eyes was enough to spark something else in her chest – something more tender than the helpless rage that had been spinning through it before. Glancing around them and finding nobody watching, Five nodded bashfully, although she hesitated when she actually reached out for his shoulder.

“ _We used to dance, you know?”_ Moonchild hissed at the back of Five’s mind, and she stepped back from Sam, panic sweeping through Five’s entire body. She jerked her hands back.

“Sam, are you sure—I mean, _she’s_ here right now, still…What if she tries to get me to do something?”

“We’ll deal with that _if_ it happens,” Sam said, taking and placing Five’s hand onto his shoulder and pulling her in closer. “But maybe just try to focus on dancing? For me.”

Five nodded and closed her eyes for a moment, letting Sam guide them both into a simple, swaying kind of movement. The guitarist had shifted into a slower song, one that was at once melancholy and sweet. A female singer with a beautifully breathy voice joined in, singing of olive branches and Babylon over the merry snaps and pops of the fire. And although Five was listening hard, that and the sound of her and Sam’s footsteps on soft earth were all she could hear. Sam could feel the tension in her shoulders but kept up the dance anyway, urging her in slow circles around the fringes of the quad. By the time the song had ended, the line between her eyebrows had eased, and she seemed to be stepping more on the beat, as if she had finally been able to tune in to the song.

Five looked up at Sam again with a cautious smile. She’d caught him staring at her, which make her chuckle slightly. An immensely relieved smile spread across his face, and he raised one of Five’s hands to draw her into a twirl. Five obliged with a determined enthusiasm, spinning tight and fast enough on the ball or her foot to get her hair to whip around her as she turned back to Sam. The music had changed again, picking up into something faster and more cheerful, and there were even a few muted claps on the downbeat.

Smiling widely now, Five stepped back to Sam in time, and the couple began to dance in earnest. They drifted closer to the bonfire, joining the small crowd of people stepping or bobbing with various degrees of skill and enthusiasm. As Five giggled through pulling Sam into a clumsy spin of his own—he was so much taller than her that she had to let go of his hand for just a moment or smack him in the face—she realized that in the midst of the noise, her own mind had gone quiet.

Whatever it was Moonchild had been doing, it seemed to be at an end for now. Warmth spread through Five’s chest as she realized that Sam had quite literally danced her through…well, whatever that was. She looked up at him again, adoring the way his cheeks had grown slightly flushed from the proximity to the fire and the chill night air. Sensing her watching him, Sam looked down at her and laughed before pressing a quick kiss to the top of her head and sending Five out for another spin. Maybe it wasn’t quite Valentine’s Day yet, but it didn’t matter to Sam and Five. They danced tenderly together, lost in each other, until darkness fell and the gathering drifted home for the night.


	2. Fair Play

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Simon and Five have a little fun with fencing while out on a mission together. They definitely have the time and safe space to do so.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set in early/mid-Season 2; no particular spoilers. Content warning: alcohol mention, talk about alcohol use, canon-typical violence against zombies, light description of blood/gore, minor suggestiveness if you squint.

Boisterous banter drifted across the abandoned village where Simon Lauchlan and Runner Five were picking their way through the debris of a half-collapsed apartment complex. They’d cleared out the area of visible zombies about a half-hour ago; by now, it was probably best to draw any remaining threats out by being a little loud than stepping right into a half-buried zom’s grip.

Simon let out a low whistle as he kicked aside a sheet wall section to reveal a mostly intact bar cabinet.

“Get a look at this, Five!” Simon called to his companion across the flat, which now sporting an expansive open sunroof. “I bet there’s enough liquor here to last us through a few parties, at least!”

“But what are the rest of them going to drink?” Five shot back as she hopped over a broken coffee table to take a look, eyes sparkling with excitement at the thought of real merriment.

“Ha, ha,” Simon intoned dryly. “You talk a big game for such a lightweight. I saw you the last time Jack and Eugene passed out the cider – never seen a single person giggle so much after just three drinks.”

“Hey!” Five protested defensively, bending forward to dart a slim arm into the cabinet to pull out a bottle of gin before Simon could get his hands on it. “To be fair, I’m like, half your size. Especially if we consider muscle mass.”

“Yeah, you’d never be able to take me in a fight,” Simon replied, proving his point by wrapping one arm around Five’s middle and moving her away from the cabinet as easily if she’d been made of Styrofoam.

“Oh, yeah?” Five put her hands on her hips in mock offense, competitive streak successfully coaxed out of hiding. “Maybe by strength alone. But I’ve got all kinds of training, you know. Depends on what method you choose for a duel.” She looked around the area and spotted a couple of loose pieces of rebar, freed from their concrete encasing. “For instance…have you ever tried fencing?”

Simon straightened up, having finished loading the cabinet’s contents into his backpack, setting it at his feet with a gentle clinking of glass.

“No,” he said slowly, “But I have a feeling I’d be a natural.”

“Oh-ho!” Five laughed in mocking astonishment. “Don’t get cocky, there, Simon. _En garde!”_ Five tossed one of the lengths of metal towards Simon, who caught it easily with one hand.

“Uh…Runner Three, Runner Five?” Sam queried over their headsets. Five had forgotten about him a moment – he tended to go quiet and the tiniest bit snippy when Simon and Five were chatting a lot on missions. “Do we really have time for a sword fight?”

“Oh, come on, Sammy!” Simon wheedled, turning to face the spot in the courtyard they knew Sam had a camera set up. “This place is a gold mine, but our packs are almost full. And it’s quiet enough; a little fun won’t kill anybody!”

“That’s _definitely_ going on the list of banned phrases,” Sam muttered. “You shouldn’t stay out there any longer than you have to. Who knows what’s in that rubble? It could be unstable…”

“C’mon, Sam,” Five broke in, putting on the sweetest voice she could muster. “Consider it a bit of combat training – I can show Simon the basics of fencing, and we can use it the next time we have to take out a zom with a stick. Besides, we’ve got to wait for the scout to circle back to us before we head home.”

“Well…” Sam waffled, and Five grinned smugly at Simon’s rolled eyes. “I don’t suppose I could stop you two agents of chaos anyway. Just be quick about it, alright?”

Five made an exaggerated bow in the direction of the courtyard and shrugged out of her backpack victoriously. She settled herself into an admittedly amateurish fencing stance and lifted the metal rod in front of her like a blade.

“I took a semester of foil in college, so that’s what we’ll stick with. It’s all about light touches, making contact, not whacking the other person, anyway, so less chance of injury.”

Simon nodded and imitated Five’s pose, although the weight of the rebar was clearly less of a hindrance to him than the diminutive runner. He mouthed "making contact" with a waggle of his eyebrows, and Five rolled her eyes at him.

A few mostly-remembered instructions from Five and a few cautious lunges back and forth, and Simon and Five began to duel in earnest. Five may have been more familiar with the idea of what they were doing, but Simon far outmatched her in reach. She had to rely on her smaller size, bouncing on the balls of her feet to stay a moving target. Simon had already managed to make contact on the outside of her arms twice before she was able to land a blow, thrusting diagonally across her opponent to land a mostly gentle blow across his neon running belt. Simon actually gasped in slight shock.

“Five! You nearly got me in the—”

“That wasn’t _nearly_ anything. That was _control_!” Five crowed, retreating from Simon’s clumsy retaliatory strike.

“Oh, alright,” Simon said, a devilish expression on his face. “If you want to play that way…” he advanced towards Five with the makeshift foil slashing in front of him in rapid strikes, forcing Five to retreat further and further towards the hallway to the bedrooms that had been at her back. She laughed despite her predicament, playfully kicking an abandoned laundry bin into Simon’s path.

“Guys, if you go deeper into the flat, I won’t be able to see you,” Sam warned, but the pair of runners ignored him.

“Simon, this isn’t fencing anymore, we’ve got to stay in the field of play—”

“Well, if you want to call this practical training,” Simon retorted with a toothy grin and a downward swipe near Five’s knees. Five jumped backward to avoid the contact, bumping one of the bedroom doors with her back as she did so. It was hanging by just the bottom hinge and scraped slightly open at the contact. The ceiling in the room beyond had almost entirely fallen, and the door was stopped halfway by debris. Now Five was trapped, and Simon knew it. He advanced slowly, and Five threw a few rapid thrusts his way, managing to score a glancing touch to his ribs, but they both knew it wouldn’t make any difference.

Suddenly the smug expression on Simon’s face froze, and his gaze shifted to something just over Five’s shoulder.

“I’m not gonna fall for that old—” Five began before a motion from Simon stopped her.

Simon had lifted his left hand up, palm towards Five, then closed his fingers to his palm, quickly lowering his arm. It was a one-handed approximation of the British Sign Language word for “Stop.” A few of Abel’s residents used BSL for various reasons, and the runners had all picked up varying degrees of it for use in the field.

Five froze, feeling the skin at the back of her neck crawl, straining her ears behind her. She thought there was the sound of dragging along the carpet—

“Stay completely still,” Simon muttered lowly, a disconcertingly gleeful look in his eye. “This’ll be _so_ cool, but it’ll only work if you _don’t. Move._ ”

Five caught herself before she nodded, raising her eyebrows and widening her eyes at Simon in a clear _what the hell are you doing_ expression. She froze so hard she felt like she was vibrating with tension.

Five barely had time to process the sudden groan from behind her when Simon lunged forward, turning the rebar in his grip like a spear, jabbing hard through the space just above Five’s right shoulder. With disconcerting clarity, Five heard a grisly _schunk_ sound as Simon impaled a zombie on the metal. Five flinched as a thick, room-temperature liquid sprayed across the back of her neck but kept still in case there was more to come.

Simon’s forward momentum had brought him close enough to Five she could see his chest rise and fall as he scanned the space behind her for a moment before he flicked his eyes back to her face and nodded. A full-body shudder passed briefly through Five at the closeness of that particular call. She returned Simon’s stare – wide-eyed – pupils blown, for a long moment before they both realized they should be moving. Simon took a hasty step back, and Five let the tip of her improvised weapon hit the ground with a light clank.

“Told ya it’d be cool,” Simon quipped. A burst of relieved giggles burst from Five as she finally moved to follow him back down the hallway.

“I gotta give that one to you,” she agreed, all competition well out of mind. “But we’d probably better get back to where Sam can see us.”

The pair picked their way back to the living room and down the porch towards the courtyard of the complex, grabbing their full-to-bursting packs from where they had been left. Everything was quiet.

“Five,” Simon called a little anxiously once they got close enough to the camera for a detailed view. “That isn’t _your_ blood on your neck, is it? Runner Three, what did you _do—”_

_"Relax,_ Sam,” Simon interrupted, producing a rag from his running belt and swiping at the residual gore on Five’s neck. She had to keep from jumping at the touch, still wired on adrenaline. “We ran into a zom, but we just used our combined sword fighting expertise to take it out.”

“Hmm.” Sam made an unhappy noise over the comms. Five suppressed a chuckle at the pinched expression he could only imagine he was making. Simon really did seem to rub him the wrong way sometimes. “You two are both awfully flushed for fooling around with toy swords.”

“It’s hard work!” Five protested earnestly, rounding to playfully scold the camera’s approximate position in a nearby tree. “Fencing is an Olympic sport, you know. Besides, just ask Runner Eight, combatives are critical for both cardio and strength—”

“Alright, alright,” Sam said, surrendering. “Look, let’s just get you both home before you find any more weapons to play pretend with, shall we? Your scout’s on his way back to you know.”

Five hefted her length of rebar to rest on her left shoulder and smiled brightly up at both Simon and the camera. “Sounds good, Sam. I think we’ve had enough practical experience for the day. Besides, we’ve got some really fun stuff to bring back. Tinned veg and cocktails are on us _tonight_!”

Simon laughed a bit at Five’s enthusiasm, and the pair passed the short wait for their last runner in cheerful banter and playful jabs – all verbal, this time. Although she’d worry over the recklessness of letting herself practically back into a zom later, at that moment, Five felt as if she and Simon could take on the world together and come out swinging.


End file.
